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- Ричард Морган
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"
Two
.
No
surprises
.
You
tell
me
exactly
what
’
s
going
to
happen
well
before
it
does
.
Anything
unexpected
,
and
you
’
re
likely
to
be
disappointing
your
sensei
all
over
again
.
"
"
Fine
.
No
surprises
.
"
Trepp
produced
a
slightly
forced
smile
that
told
me
she
wasn
’
t
accustomed
to
being
grabbed
by
the
arm
.
"
We
’
re
going
to
walk
out
of
the
restaurant
and
catch
a
taxi
.
That
all
right
by
you
?
"
"
Just
so
long
as
it
’
s
empty
.
"
I
released
her
arm
and
she
resumed
motion
,
coming
fluidly
upright
,
hands
still
well
away
from
her
sides
.
I
reached
into
my
pocket
and
tossed
a
couple
of
plastic
notes
at
Sullivan
.
"
You
stay
here
.
If
I
see
your
face
come
through
the
door
before
we
’
re
gone
,
I
’
ll
put
a
hole
in
it
.
Tea
’
s
on
me
.
"
As
I
followed
Trepp
to
the
door
,
the
waiter
arrived
with
Sullivan
’
s
tea
cup
and
a
big
white
handkerchief
,
presumably
for
the
warden
’
s
smashed
lip
.
Nice
kid
.
He
practically
tripped
over
himself
trying
to
stay
out
of
my
way
,
and
the
look
he
gave
me
was
mingled
disgust
and
awe
.
In
the
wake
of
the
icy
fury
that
had
possessed
me
earlier
,
I
sympathised
more
than
he
could
have
known
.
The
young
men
in
silk
watched
us
go
with
the
dead
-
eyed
concentration
of
snakes
.
Outside
,
it
was
still
raining
.
I
turned
up
my
collar
and
watched
as
Trepp
produced
a
transport
pager
and
waved
it
casually
back
and
forth
above
her
head
.
"
Be
a
minute
,
"
she
said
,
and
gave
me
a
curious
sidelong
glance
.
"
You
know
who
that
place
belongs
to
?
"
"
I
guessed
.
"
She
shook
her
head
.
"
Triad
noodle
house
.
Hell
of
a
place
for
an
interrogation
.
Or
do
you
just
like
living
dangerously
?
"
I
shrugged
.
